


Strangely Easy To Mistake For Loathing

by ShortieMcBealle



Category: Into The Wilderness, Last of the Mohicans (1992), Sara Donati-Into the Wilderness
Genre: F/M, Into the Wilderness - Freeform, Last of the Mohicans f/u novel, Sara Donati, nonexistent fandom, off on a solo crusade, universe's tiniest ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-12-30 17:46:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12113952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShortieMcBealle/pseuds/ShortieMcBealle
Summary: Modern AU with our favorite opposites attract couple. Elizabeth owns and runs a used book store in Paradise. Nathaniel is annoying regular.





	1. Happy Place

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever anywhere, let me know what you think.

She hated him. She hated everything about him. Everything. She hated him from his ridiculous hipster man bun to the some how even more outrageous bit of silver dangling from his earlobe. She absolutely hated his ever present know-it-all smirk, enough sometimes to want to smack it clean off of his handsome face. She couldn't stand his perpetual teasing, whether or not his jibes had a valid basis didn't factor. She hated him. If she could only convince her pounding heart of that at this particular moment, that would be bloody fantastic. Nope, instead here she was, Elizabeth Middleton, well spoken, direct, solitary, self sufficient and going out on what easily constitutes a date with a man who is in every way the furthest thing she had imagined her ideal match to be.

Nathaniel Bonner was rugged, tall, broad and smart. He was also a gigantic pain in the arse. Nearly everyday for over a year at exactly 5:45pm he would swagger into her “happy place,” ostensibly just to disrupt her peace. In the warmer months he would arrive on an obnoxiously loud motorcycle, and despite having never been on one, she also hated the mechanical beast. The shop hours were clearly posted and if he was coming to a used bookstore, clearly he had the ability to read. She should be closing up at 6pm and somehow it would only take him a mere five minutes to start some absurd debate about one author's merits versus another that would inevitably end at least an hour after closing. This occurred more times than she could count and irritated her to no end. 

_“Homer!? Yes, classic but there is no way that his works exceed the importance of Shakespeare. The man invented nearly two thousand words which we commonly use. How can you possibly believe that Homer’s works have contributed more to humanity!?” She was right, she knew she was and it had absolutely nothing to do with her love of The Bard’s works._

_“Yes, Shakespeare made significant contributions to our current language but Homer left his mark far earlier. His works still send scholars and historians in pursuit of places like Troy and those works have been around for over two thousand years. Will Mr Shakespeare still be relevant with that kind of passage of time when the English language is continually evolving to include ridiculous words like “selfie”? Purely for the entertainment value but certainly not to further any pursuit of knowledge.” He seemed so smug, not without reason she was loath to admit he had a point which wasn't completely absurd. He didn't have to look so damned amused as she was clearly thinking of an appropriate rebuttal and coming up short._

_Elizabeth then tried to argue that Shakespeare’s portrayal of women as more than damsels in distress was revolutionary for his time. Of course Nathaniel would point out that Homer clearly did the same and drew comparisons between Circe and Lady Macbeth._

_Obnoxious man! It’s my bloody shop and I am well educated enough to know a decent writer from a hack._

Sometimes he was more amiable and would discuss local and world events or areas of study. The sociable times were what she valued and why she never threw him out. 

_I have the right to refuse service, after all._

He always left just as he got her good and flustered or thoroughly intrigued with his insights at nearly the same time every evening. That was how she came to know that he was using her shop as a spot to wait for the gorgeous waitress, who she assumed was his girlfriend, to get off her shift at the café across the way. The dark-haired woman would get on the back of his motorcycle or hop into his truck, too cuddly to not be an item. It's not as though she was jealous of the woman or even the perceived relationship; Elizabeth longed to have someone smile at her in such a warm manner. The last man she thought looked at her in such a way was now engaged to her sweet, malleable and much younger cousin Amanda. When Will Spencer, proper Englishman, dumped her stating that her _“independent nature meant they wanted two very different things in life”_. She was left feeling mildly bitter towards the male species as a whole and happy with her freedom. Still, seeing obviously happy couples made her long for a true partner in life but only slightly and very fleeting.

_It's fine really I'm happy with my own space with no one's chronic judgements._

Then something happened she didn't expect: Nathaniel quit coming to argue with her. During that first week she hadn't thought much of it, chalking it up to a change in work or whatever it was he did in his own time. As time went by, one month slipped past and then another, and Elizabeth she began to miss him. Nathaniel was one of the more stimulating conversationalists with whom she had the pleasure of engaging. He could challenge her, give her things to mull over later when she was alone in her flat upstairs. When nearly six months slipped by, she decided that it was very likely that he moved from the area. She no longer saw his presumed girlfriend at the café. 

Out of the clear blue sky, he reappeared.

Nathaniel came one day very close to Christmas, just after opening. He'd never done that before. He was different somehow, tired and withdrawn. For once he didn't argue with her, only giving a nod and the ghost of a smile. What could have affected him to such a degree? Elizabeth wondered. He picked up a book, making his way to the small sitting area near the shop’s large from bay window and there he sat for nearly all day. By all outward appearances, he was just sitting and reading, except he hadn't actually turned more than ten pages since opening the volume somewhere in the middle. 

Around late afternoon, Elizabeth had finally freed up time and the shop was empty enough for her to join him sitting in the other cozy old wingback. It was clear he was waiting for something or someone. She figured that with the shop empty he would maybe continue his tradition of sarcastic egoism.

She sat and said nothing for what seemed eternity, then blurted, “I thought you moved.” After an awkward pause, she added, “Or something.” It was a statement, not a question but an observation.

He looked at her then. How had she never noticed his eyes before? Hazel, reminding her of warm springs days with that odd mix of green and golden brown, fathomless. His gaze was questioning and Elizabeth knew she likely sounded like a nosey busy body. 

He blinked solemnly before answering her unspoken question, “I've been busy.”

She flushed and inwardly cursed herself for it answering with a quiet, “Yes, I suppose so.”

They sat in companionable silence for what seemed like an eternity, each pretending to to be completely absorbed in their choice of reading material. As the last 30 minutes of shop hours drug on, Elizabeth found herself with questions that likely would never be answered. _Why had he bothered to come into her shop at all? Ever? Where had he been? Why did he seem so changed?_ It wasn't her place to ask any of these questions and if she was ever honest with herself, she only wanted to know because she somehow missed arguing with him. This last thought was disconcerting. She suddenly felt compelled to straighten up the shop, prepare for another day of holiday shoppers.. As she made to rise, Nathaniel finally spoke. “I like to come here for semblance of peace and quiet.”

She paused to look at him; he was watching her in a way that made her keenly aware of every fault she possessed.. _What was she supposed to say to that? Was it a compliment on the atmosphere of her place of business? Or was he annoyed that she was awkwardly trying to keep him company?_ He seemed able to pluck her thoughts right from her mind because he apparently found something in her rather amusing. _And there's that bloody know-it-all smirk again._

“It wasn't meant to be an insult, Boots, just a statement of fact,” he said in his normal condescending manner. Good Lord, she hated him, especially when he made her blush.  
_Boots!?_ Her eyes flared and she repeated aloud, “Boots!?”

Nathaniel gave her a pointed look with a raised brow, his eyes flickering from her. boots back up to her face. _Ugh. Of course._ While her choice footwear may not be practical for either the time of year or the location, her Docs were sturdy, well worn and comfortable.

“Oh.”

He was still just looking at her as if searching for something to say, but really, what was there? She needed to close up. There was a cuppa waiting to be prepared upstairs in her flat. Whatever she thought he had to say, it certainly wasn't the next statement out of his mouth.

“Would you like to get a bite with me, Boots? After you lock up, of course.”

Stunned would have been an understatement. Utterly dumbfounded, on the other hand, was far more apt. Elizabeth felt her stomach hit the soles of her feet. It's not as though he was unattractive, quite the opposite really. In her mind, however, he was rather like a lynx; mysterious, elusive, and even charming when he wasn’t driving her nuts being an absolute know it all. Doesn’t he have a girlfriend to be picking up? No. If he did he wouldn't have asked out of the blue. He could have asked her out anytime in the past near year and a half. After what felt an infinite amount of time but really could have only spanned the space of five heartbeats, _Oh God how long have I been sitting here staring at him!?_ She answered in the affirmative and scurried off to lockup before her face was completely crimson.

Nathaniel was patient as she went about tidying up even going so far as to help her sort and put a few piles of books away. While they worked as a team it gave her time to think about the entirety of their acquaintance thus far. She was sure she had hated him. _Maybe it was because he seemed to be too perfect. Perfectly unattainable._ Perhaps that's what bothered her so much. If she was being honest he wasn't a bad sort, he challenged her and she liked it. 

Lights out, doors locked and thoroughly bundled against the frigid season, they set off. Elizabeth had expected Nathaniel would lead them to the café he used to frequent on behalf of the pretty, dark haired woman. As she started walking in that general direction, she noticed he wasn't with her. Turning to look she noticed him standing there clearly not even considering his former haunt.

“If you aren't too put out by it, Boots, I figured we could get Chinese?”

“It's Elizabeth, actually, Mr Bonner. And yes, Chinese sounds lovely.”

“Nathaniel.”

Returning to his side, he held out his hand to her. She looked at it as if it was a completely foreign object, and then looked into his eyes. _Big mistake._ She took his hand and colored at his wolfish grin.


	2. Odysseus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV of Nathaniel Bonner.

He wasn't sure what made him offer her his hand. He couldn't stop himself from ginning at her as she colored again in response to him. He wasn't entirely sure why he was drawn to her, but he was all the same. She was different and not just because she was an Englishwoman in small town rural America. She couldn't know the man he was before and it gave him a certain kind of freedom. She wasn't anything like Sarah; there was no sadness when she looked at him. She intrigued him and Nathaniel had a desire to know her better. Clearly there was something to this Miss Elizabeth Middleton, a story to be told. 

Everyone knew everyone's business in Paradise, the town being as small as it was. While he was in her cozy little bookstore, he noticed that she was introverted, self-sufficient and well educated; all reasons why no one appeared to know more than the barest of essentials about her. She was a complete outsider, an amazing feat in Paradise. With snow three feet on the ground, at this time of year it would be hard to figure out why it could have ever been considered a paradise to the early people who settled here. It was home to him, though, always would be.

_“Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.” Robert Frost said that, I think. Can't say I disagree._

When he was away in Afghanistan, testing the moral ambiguity of the world, his mind would drift back to weeks camping and hunting in the wilderness. It was those times it truly felt like Paradise. When he returned to his hometown, Nathaniel Bonner was a man many would say had a _“chip on his shoulder.”_ His father said he was _“salty,”_ whatever that meant. His now _ex_ -fiancee Sarah claimed he was withdrawn and cynical. He didn't see it that way, though he knew he kept his feelings closer than before. That was what caused Sarah to leave. He knew he was a changed man. Nathaniel still felt like could be the same man as before though.

_And that's what matters really, isn't it? That I still think and feel like...me._

That was why he kept find himself in her shop more time than he like to admit. What started as a quiet place to peruse a collection of literature that he enjoyed turned into a place where he feel like his old self again. Nearly everyday for over a year he would come in here and pester attractive proprietor. She had a way of baiting him into conversation and it took Nathaniel no time at all to figure out that he enjoyed getting her ire up.

_“You can't be seriously tell me that Shakespeare is that wonderful? His work is iconic, but there is far too much romance for my taste.” He enjoyed watching her irritation, heightened color, grey eyes flaring with indignation. She was lovely._

_Thinking so made him feel tremendous guilt, but he was only human and nothing would come of it._

_“Okay smart guy, whose works would you say contributed more to modern man then? Must be awfully important to surpass The Bard.”_

_He chose one of his classic favorites. “Homer, from both an entertainment and historical standpoint.”_

It was the truth and he felt drawn in particular the the Homer's Odyssey, in which he felt some reflections of his own life. 

_I went away and fought and came home to find a suitor with the woman I wanted to spend my life with._

He returned home and nothing really was the same. Sarah's dalliance with Richard Todd, _that ginger bastard_ , was more serious than he originally thought. Her guilt kept her with him, he in turn felt he owed it to what they had been once to try and make the relationship work. For little more than a year they carried on with the facade of a happy couple. In the end he woke up to a note stating her apologies and regret, weighed down by the ring he gave her.

 _So much for_ “just friends.”

That was six months ago. Six months of wishing he said more done more to make Sarah stay. He threw himself into his work. The mechanics shop had been in his family for a long time now. His grandfather still owned it and he was proud to work there with his father. Being a mechanic kept his hands busy and mind from wandering too much to the questions he wasn't ready to answer.

_What would I do if she came waltzing back into his life tomorrow? Am I dreaming or hoping that she will? Do I really even want her back? Sarah is gone likely for good and I don't even miss her like I should._

What he found he missed was an intelligent mind, grey eyes set in a heart-shaped face and the challenge they promised. He could quit feeling guilty about his initial draw to Elizabeth now; the only person stopping him was himself. That's what finally led him to come back to her book store. He wanted to observe her, see if the infatuation he felt was mutual and still there. It was. As he flipped the through the pages in, _What is this?, Gulliver’s Travels apparently,_ he decided the worst she could do was say no to him if he invited her out to dinner. It wouldn't be a date really, just getting to know her. After the question was asked, an eternity seemed to pass before she acquiesced. He saw her cheeks went slightly pink just before she scampered off to wrap up her work. Nathaniel felt a rush of pride at eliciting this response, a pretty blush, and her nervous escape had him fighting a chuckle.

_She is lovely when she's irritated with me, face all flushed with indignation. This response, though, is something else altogether and more than I hoped for._

Now, sitting across from Elizabeth, occasionally peering over his menu at her, he understood from their months of arguing she was strong-willed and could likely tire him out if he was ready to pursue any kind of relationship. It was after this thought that she looked up from her own menu, meeting his gaze unwaveringly.

“Did you find anything that interests you tonight, Mr. Bonner?” 

He was convinced that she was solely referring to the menu in front of him. Her gaze was softer than it had been, guileless and he could very nearly feel it soften his rough edges.

“Nathaniel,” he reminded her gently and couldn't stop his smile when her color heightened. She looked back to her own menu not quite quick enough to hide her own small smile.  
_This will be worth the chase._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to MarieTurtle. And thank you for stopping by and reading.


	3. Ice Breakers

Meals ordered, pleasantries about the weather and anticipation for the holidays out of the way, they slipped into an awkward but companionable silence. Both looking for something to say that would break the ice without feeling forced.

Settling on what felt cliche, she asked, “What is it you do for work?”

She was trying to make small talk, he could tell. The whole _I suppose this is a date_ thing was just as unfamiliar territory for her as it was for him. In a way, Nathaniel found that realization comforting.

“I'm a mechanic. I work on motorcycles mostly.” It was the simple answer giving her just enough information while still withholding a bit.

 _Well, that explains his motorcycle._ It was a simple answer but made certain things she knew of him in passing make more sense. _Like pieces to a puzzle,_ she thought. Elizabeth, not knowing what would be appropriate conversation for a “first date”, whether it truly felt like one or not, settled on one question that was nagging at her his whole time in her shop today.

“So, what brought you to my shop today, Mr. Bonner?”

“Gulliver.”

“Ah,” Elizabeth said slowly and then cast a glance around at the red paper lanterns in an effort to find something more to fill the silence.

 

“That's not really the question you want answered anyway.” Her full attention snapped back to him. He added, “What you want to know is why I've asked you here.”

Nathaniel knew he was trying to get a rise out of her and he wasn't entirely sure why.

_You go ahead and tell yourself that, see if you can make it stick. You know exactly why._

If he meant to get her flustered, it was working, but Elizabeth was resolved to not give him the satisfaction. Deciding to be equally as equally as evasive for the time being, she elected to simply state, “Really, Mr. Bonner, that question hardly needed to be asked. I'm sure that you are equally curious as to why I would accept the invitation?”

 _I will be bloody damned if I let this smug bastard get the better of me._

He could see that his question made her uncomfortable.

Each were liberated from anymore unnecessary verbal barbs by their waitress. Enjoying a meal meant less stunted conversation, but also left the pair deep in their own thoughts, each wondering where things went from here. By the time the check came Nathaniel was sure that he needed more time with her and Elizabeth was just as warily intrigued.

When they found themselves at her shop front, he figured it was time to make his move. _It's now or never and she’ll probably tell me to go to Hell and I can move on. It won't be a big deal. Really, we’ve only been antagonizing each other anyway._

“Look, I’m not great at this whole thing, but is there a better place we can go? So we can just talk?” Looking around the quiet street he added, “Ideally out of the cold.”

She wasn’t sure why she was surprised. Maybe she half-expected to invite him up to her flat anyway. They had talked at dinner of this and that, but they really hadn’t shared much of themselves. They had the basics: she asked about his work, his hobbies, a little about his family, but there seemed to be more that he was willing to share. Staring down at her cold, inappropriately-attired feet, she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to know exactly what made this man tick.

With one decisive nod, she said, “ Well, Mr Bonner, if you care to my flat is upstairs. We could have some tea if you like? Or coffee if you prefer.”

Nathaniel was a little taken aback. Her invitation to a virtual stranger was either courageous or foolhardy. Giving less than a moment's thought to her offer, he accepted and before he really knew it he was sitting at a tiny table in her small kitchen, cup of coffee in hand across from her with her Earl Gray.

He took a sip and asked, “What brings you to Paradise? I can’t imagine many people wanting to relocate to what is virtually the middle of nowhere.”

_How much do I tell him? Does he want to know everything? Maybe I can just gloss over the finer points, just stick to the easy answers for now? No. I've already gone and invited him up here and I want to know everything I can about him. Turnabout is fair play, get it together, Elizabeth!_

“The easy answer is family.” She said this knowing that he'd ask for more detail.

“And the not-so-easy answer?” He met her steady gaze.

She closed her eyes and took a fortifying breath. “It's complicated”. 

She then looked at him again. He could see her uncertainty, but she proceeded to tell him what she felt she could.

Elizabeth knew that she wanted to know more about this man. She felt that if she could upon up to anyone in this town it was Nathaniel. She hoped that once there was a trust of sorts between them that he in turn would feel just as comfortable sharing with her.

She told him everything, how she left England and a budding teaching career to find her own brand of freedom. Free from her father the disgraced magistrate; he tried to conceive a way to have Elizabeth's portion of an her inheritance from her late mother reallocated to himself. The idea was to pay off the less-than-reputable individuals her brother owed rather large sums to. She confessed she couldn't have done without the help of her mother's sister. Aunt Merriweather assisted her in coming to the states and purchasing her shop.

Throughout her confession she felt a sense of peace. A certain lightness. _I suppose this is that weight one feels lifting from their shoulders,_ she thought while still avoiding Nathaniel's eye, not wanting to see the judgment on his face. When Elizabeth did meet his gaze she was surprised by what she saw: _understanding._

Listening to her talk he learned that he had been wrong. She wasn't running from something so much as to something. Something that she could claim as her own: freedom.

_It takes a great deal of strength of character, some amount of bravery and no small amount of foolishness to head into the unknown. No small wonder I am drawn to this woman._

Nathaniel found himself looking at Elizabeth with fresh eyes. Clearly this was difficult for her to share, though she seemed liberated having done so. He found the more her knew of her the more there was to admire. 

_If she knew me better, would there be that same admiration? Would she accept me as I am?_

“That's quite the story, Boots.”

A small smirk ghosted across her face He said it with no judgment, no condescension; just stating a fact, like he was saying the sky is blue or the Earth was round. His new nickname for her gave her an unfamiliar warm in her chest seeping down her spine.

_I think I quite like it. Boots._

He had an introspective look about him. She would dearly love to know what he was thinking, but it seemed too personal to ask at this stage in whatever it was they were doing. She set her teacup down, leveling Nathaniel with her curious, though slightly worried gaze and asked something she desperately wanted to know since he first walked into her shop after his prolonged absence earlier that day.

“Where have you been?” Realizing this sounded mildly plaintive, she began to babble. “I mean, you come in so frequently, not all the time or anything, just that you're a regular...” her nonsensical statement dying away as she noticed his bemused expression. _Oh, bloody hell!_ She could feel the heat in her face, there was no hiding from him, not when he was sitting directly across from her. Taking a deep, restorative breath, Elizabeth attempted to sound less like a blithering idiot. 

“It's rather noticeable that something is a miss when there's no one around to have spirited debates with.”

Reclining back in his chair, Nathaniel made quick study of her sitting there, hands clasped tightly together in her lap.

_Did she just admit to missing my company?_

Giving a single quick nod to himself as much as to her, he started the tale of his own colorful history in much the same manner she did.

“The simple answer is that there really isn't one.”

Nathaniel proceeded to give her an abridged version of things. How he and his college sweetheart had hopes of settling down in their hometown, complete with a wedding and family. How he felt called to do his duty to his country, which meant that he went away from the world he knew. How when he returned, he found his fiancee practically moved in with another man. How very little made sense other than his work at the garage, which pushed Sarah even further away, until one day she left. How he found a peaceful place where he could go and get lost in great works of fiction and stimulating conversation.

She gasped and even nodded attentively in all the appropriate spots. The last made her eyes go wide. Nathaniel nodded, confirming he was indeed referring to her shop. 

_Though really, where else would I be talking about going?_

“Coming home should have felt like a relief, getting to pick my life back up. Instead it feels like the title of that book, you know, by Thomas Wolfe, _You Can't Go Home Again._ If that makes sense?”

Elizabeth cocked her head to the side and without more than ten seconds of thought, she answered his question.

“Oh, it makes perfect sense, Mr. Bonner, but I would compare the situation to Robert Frost. ‘Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.’”

“Nathaniel.”

At this they smiled at each other, each seeing the other as if fog had suddenly cleared. 

_She has a lovely smile._

He began to fidget with his coffee mug on the table, turning it this way and that. It was getting late and if he was going to make any sort of move to further their acquaintance, it was now or never. Looking up from the empty receptacle, he gave her a penetrating gaze, daring her to look away.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Certainly, Mr. Bonner.” She fixed him an unwavering grey stare, but her breathiness betrayed her nerves.

“Would you please say my name?”

_Nathaniel. I always call him so in my head, it just never seemed proper to do so until now._

She could tell her face was a deep shade of crimson, not out of embarrassment but a whole host of other thoughts and feelings she wasn't ready to recognize.

“Nathaniel.” It came out as a not much more than a whisper, but saying it felt nearly euphoric.

They sat there not much longer, both having to returned to their own worlds. There were unspoken questions between them and both were too apprehensive to give them voice right at this moment. It wasn't until Elizabeth was seeing him out that she screwed up her courage.

“Will I see you again?”

He gave her another wolfish grin which sent her heart fluttering.

“Well, Boots, I believe I might be in the mood for ‘spirited debates’ after work tomorrow. If you don't mind my loitering?” 

He was rewarded for his teasing by a warm smile, which sent his stomach turning over on itself. He took this as an affirmation that his continued visits to her establishment were welcome. Without too much thought, Nathaniel leaned forward pressing a warm, lingering kiss on her forehead. She slid her arms around his torso in a gesture that flooded his body with heat and he held her in return for a brief moment. He promised that he would see her again very soon before bidding her goodnight.

It looked like this thing, whatever it was that lay between the two of them, was the start of a journey, neither knowing its twists and turns nor its final destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks for stopping by and reading this first foray into fic writing. A special thanks to my awesome beta MarieTurlte

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, MarieTurtle who is a wonderful person and helpful beta


End file.
